“Fuck,” I swore under my breath as I pulled over to the side of the road. This car was going to be the death of me. The spurts and sputters it made couldn’t be good. If I wasn’t able to get it running on my own, the little bastard was going to rot on the highway. I had exactly no money left to get it moving again after the last costly repair.

Thank God it still had enough power left to get safely out of traffic and onto the shoulder. I popped the hood, hoping for the best. Watching for cars, I jumped out to see what disaster awaited me.

Thirty minutes and every trick known to mankind later, nothing. Not so much as a spark of life left in it. What was I going to do? Just as I was about to call a tow truck, my phone went off. It was Vivienne.

“Hey, babe, bad timing. What’s up?” I said into the phone, barely able to hear her for the noise of the cars zooming past.

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

I exhaled, then told her about my predicament.

“Hold tight. Let me make a quick call. Don’t contact a tow truck yet. Wait for me. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said, hanging up the phone.

Hold tight. Funny. What the fuck else was I going to do? I slammed the hood back down with as much force as I possibly could. Nope. Didn’t feel any better. Resigned, I slid back into the car to wait for my girlfriend.

“Oh, Christ, you did a good job on this bad boy,” the tow truck operator said as he hemmed and hawed under the hood. Nice. “I’ll take it down to the shop, but just sayin’. This looks nasty as shit.” His coveralls couldn’t have been any greasier I noted as he wiped his grimy hands on them again.

“You can just drop it off at my apartment. I’ll give you the address.” There was no sense taking it to a shop to get it fixed when I couldn’t pay.

“Len, give us a minute?” Vivienne asked the guy. He shrugged, walking back to his truck.

“I know these guys. Let them take care of it. We do business with the owner’s sister. She owns a few stores in town. They’re honest, hardworking people.”

“I’m sure they are, honey. My bank account is pretty fuckin’ lean right now. There’s no possible way I can afford a huge repair like this.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Yet. They’ll look at it for no cost, and then you can tell them what you want them to do.”

“There was smoke coming out of the engine. It isn’t going to be good.”

She pursed her lips together like she was plotting. “I’ll pay for it.”

I let out a huge laugh. “No, you fucking won’t.”

Her face changed as she stared at me. “Okay, meet me in my car. I’ll chat with Len for a minute,” she said, chucking her keys to me as she waltzed right past.

She was obviously pissed. About what I had no idea. This was my problem, not hers. I shook my head, took the keys—along with my bruised ego—to Vivienne’s vehicle, and waited for her there.

“Would you two like anything else?” our server asked us.

“No, we’re good, thanks,” Vivienne said, placing our cutlery on the dirty plates for him to carry away.

“I’ll meet you in the car after I pay,” I said, grabbing her arm. We had gone out for supper, much to my objection. The last thing a broke person should be doing is paying for someone else to cook for them.

“Uh, I paid already. We can just go.” Vivienne smiled up at me, ready to take off.

“Hey, hey, what are you talking about?” I asked, holding onto her arm with a firmer grasp.

“I paid already.”

“When? Our server didn’t even bring the check yet?” I said, confused.

“After I went to the bathroom. It’s no biggie. Let’s take off.”

Shocked, I let go of her and followed her out. What the fuck? She paid for me on the sly? Yeah, that was hardly emasculating at all.

I waited until we got into the car to discuss it with her. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but I wanted to pay for supper.”

“So did I,” she said, buckling up before pulling out of the parking spot.

“You don’t seem to understand what I’m saying.”

“I do. I wanted to go out. I should be the one who pays.”

“See, that’s not all right with me.”

“Because you’re the man?” she asked, tilting her head at me. “I guess you didn’t understand that I also have a job and can more than afford to pay for supper.” She huffed, putting her small hand on my leg. “Look, it was getting late. I’m tired and there’s no way I want to spend an hour in the kitchen cooking after the day I had. All I want to do is go home, get naked with you, and forget that some men are idiots.”

Huh. Couldn’t argue with that.

We drove for a bit, then Vivienne took a detour from the way home. “Where are we going?” I asked, hating not being in control of the vehicle. Her ride was fantastic: leather seats, all the extras. Way nicer than my car.

“One quick stop. Hope you don’t mind? There’s a sale going on that I forgot about until just now.” I knew exactly where she was taking us. My woman had an addiction for baby stores.

Whenever and however her kid decided to come into this world, he or she was going to have every possible luxury imaginable.

“You coming in?” she asked like she always did. I’d never gone in yet.

“Why not?” I muttered, bolting out of the SUV. Holding the door to the store open for Vivienne, she stopped to beam the cutest smile ever at me. I shook my head, grinning back.

Good Christ. It looked like someone threw up pink and blue all over the store. Women in different stages of pregnancy roamed around, helpers in tow.

“Oh my, what do you think of this?” she asked me, holding up a picture of a yellow bear.

“Um, you know babies can’t see farther than eight to twelve inches, right? What sense does it make to buy all of this stuff when the child won’t even be able to see it?” I asked, always the logical one.

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. “I can see farther than twelve inches, so it makes sense to me.” She frowned at me, carrying the picture around with her.

“Give it to me. I’ll hold it so you have more hands to find more shit.”

“Shhh, don’t swear in a baby store,” she said, her head swiveling around nervously as though we were about to get kicked out for foul language.

“Pretty sure babies don’t understand words either.” I shut up after the glare she sent me.

“Need some help over here, folks?” An associate greeted us. I was about to say no when Vivienne cut in with a list of things she had to have for a baby who didn’t even exist.

“Can you explain to me how a seven pound baby needs all this shit?” I asked as I tried again to stuff everything she’d bought into the back of her SUV. Praying the third time was the charm, I shoved the hatch down. Success.

“Babies need different stuff than we do. They’re cute and small, so they need cute, small things.”

“So many cute, small things, though?” I asked, hopping into the passenger side door.

“Yeah.”

Fuck, she was cute. Completely obsessed with nesting for a baby she wanted so deeply. I still didn’t know why I was here. What difference was six more weeks going to make? Other than make me even more devastated when we went our separate ways.

Was I suddenly going to be a successful writer in six weeks? Would money fall from Heaven so I could provide for a family I didn’t even know if I wanted?

Why was I still here? Just like Vivienne was addicted to baby stores, I was addicted to Vivienne. Her smell, her skin, the way her soft, wet pussy took my cock inside her like she’d never had better. I knew that last one for a fact because she’d told me several times with that dirty mouth of hers.

Everything about that woman was perfect for me, except her overwhelming desire to have a baby. Yes, it was a rather large issue to disagree on. I knew that. Every time I decided to call it quits, the dread inside stopped me. The thought of losing her made me physically ill.

When I was with her, everything was so fucking easy, so fun, like it had never been with anyone else. Being with Vivienne was as natural as breathing.

Could I do this? Could I jerk off into some plastic cup to start a family with a woman I hardly knew? If not, was I willing to lose her forever to some noisy, clingy kid?